Animus Lost
by avorialair
Summary: Some things are better left undisturbed. Ten/Rose. WIP.
1. Prologue

**Animus Lost  
><strong>

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><p><span>- Prologue -<span>

"You guys can stay, but we've got to be quiet. It's like two in the morning and my parents are asleep."

"Still can't believe they let you take the car, Tia," slurred a gangly, ruffle-haired boy in the back seat. He leant forward, between the gap, grinning. "They must really love you."

Tia shrugged, and flicked off the ignition. The headlamps went out, leaving them in total darkness in the tiny village. "I told you, Tom. It was on the condition I wouldn't drink." She turned to face him. "It was either that or not go, so… "

He reached out an unsteady hand and curled some hair behind her ear. "Maybe I can make it up to you," he half-whispered, but rather than seductive, it came out more as a sleepy sigh.

In the passenger seat across from them there came an audible cough.

"Charming. Tom, you're disgusting," commented a red-head, rolling her eyes. "Give Tia a break."

"Yeah, Tom. Listen to Katie." Tia joined in, but her eyes caught his and they each shared a secret smile. Nobody knew they had decided to make their relationship official, at least to each other.

Tom collapsed back and let out a rough sigh. "Fine," he gave in, feigning annoyance. "Can we get out of here? I've really got to take a leak and I don't think your dad'll like it if I spoil his fine upholstery with my – "

"Yes, yes, all right," Tia rushed, fumbling to get the keys out of the ignition. "Just give me a sec. I can barely see a thing."

The village she lived in really was out in the middle of nowhere. They had to drive for twenty minutes before they even got to the nearest supermarket. There were a few houses dotted around within sight, close enough to be counted as 'neighbours', but generally life in the country was quiet and undisturbed. Tia's friends often complained to her that she lived so far out of the way, as it meant they often didn't get to see her. Were it not for the local college and her younger brother, she imagined her parents would have probably already moved.

Yanking on the keychain, she gave a frustrated groan.

"Ugh, it always sticks. Stupid thing." In the pitch black she gave it a harder tug, jingling the metal as she wiggled the key back and forth. "Katie, get your phone, will you? Shine it over here."

Obediently, Katie reached into her pocket and pulled out her mobile, activating the flashlight on the side.

"Here you go," she said, and passed it to Tia.

As Tia's hands fumbled in the dark, she pointed the phone in the direction of the ignition – where it promptly went out. She stared down at the blank screen before handing it back to Katie's silhouette.

"Battery must have died."

"That's weird," Katie mumbled, examining it. "I charged it before we came out."

"For God's – here, let me," offered an irritable Tom, who was fidgeting like a five year old in a long and boring queue. "Women are so useless."

"Um, excuse me! It's not too late to make you sleep in the car, you know."

"Whatever."

He leant over into the front, shining the light from his own mobile phone across the ignition. With a beleaguered sigh, Tia gave the keys a decisive yank – at which point, Tom's light also died.

"Oh, what?" cried Tia. "This is ridiculous! It's never normally this bad."

"Serves you right for living in the middle of nowhere."

"I do not live in the middle of nowhere, Tom. Antarctica is the middle of nowhere. Just because this is a tiny village doesn't mean it's – "

"Um, guys?" The voice was Katie's, but it lacked the sarcasm that usually came whenever Tia and Tom started to bicker.

They both turned to her simultaneously. "What?"

"It's … really dark outside."

Tom rolled his eyes. "Duh. It's night time, Katie, where have you been?"

"No, I mean." She raised a trembling hand, pointing. "It's _really_ dark."

Tia and Tom followed her hand with their gaze and Tia felt her palms start to sweat. It was always dark in the middle of the night, due to the lack of street lamps in the area. But there was always something, even the faintest glow: the stars, the moon, a house or car in the distance. But when she looked at the windscreen, she couldn't see a thing. She couldn't even make out her own silhouette staring back at her. Looking back to her friends, she gasped when even they seemed to have been swallowed up by darkness.

"Katie?" she called quietly. "Tom?"

She got no reply.

"Guys, this isn't funny."

Blindly, she reached behind her, trying to fumble for the handle of the door. But although her hands came across solid objects, she couldn't make out what was what. As stupid as it sounded, she couldn't even be sure that she was in the car any more. She waved a hand in front of her face and couldn't make a single thing out.

"Hey!" she whimpered reaching forward this time. "What's going on?"

Relief flooded her when her hands found something warm and soft, like a body. At least that gave her some grounding. It didn't last long, however, as her fingers suddenly came across something sticky, warm and wet, oozing all over her fingers. A metallic smell lifted and began to choke her, and Tia nearly gagged.

"No… "

She shook the body – Katie's, she presumed – and tried to ignore the sensation of blood covering her hands. This couldn't be real. She began to yell Katie's name in fear, then Tom's, then both of them as she became more and more panicked. She tried to shift in her chair, tried to make out something – anything – that wasn't deep, dark black. But it was like everything had been swallowed up by nothingness. Like she was drowning in it.

The smell in the car was getting too much, and her trembling body felt as though it was going to pass out. She began to kick out, crying and screaming. Her limbs met nothing but air. Reaching for Katie's body again, Tia found there was nothing. Nothing behind, nothing above.

Then all of a sudden a shadow appeared from the darkness. She didn't know how it could be darker than dark, how it held form against the absence of everything, but the last thing Tia Mackavoy was aware of as it engulfed her was that she had never got to tell Tom that she loved him.

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><p><strong>...Cheery, right? :P Not my best work, but I haven't written in like a year and I just needed something to occupy my mind whilst I have a lot of work on (read: distract me). Apologies for no appearance of the lovely Doctor or Rose this time, but they are never far behind trouble. No fear!<strong>


	2. Brothers in Arms

**Note**: Thank you all so much for the reviews and the alerts/faves from that prologue! It was far more than I was expecting :) So this chaapter practically killed me. It ... got away from me somewhat, which is why it's so long and why it took me so long to write. I'm not entirely happy with it, particularly the end, but, well, I guess I'll have to see what you guys think. Thanks :)

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><p><strong>Animus Lost<strong>_  
><em>

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><p><span>- Chapter One -<span>  
><em>Brothers in Arms<em>

_**«¤»** _

The Doctor walked hand in hand with Rose along a gravel-strewn pathway, kicking up stones with his dusty shoes. Sunlight streamed through the trees and bathed them both in a pale hue, the shadows of leaves interjecting and casting strange shapes across their bodies and the floor. Up ahead, a fountain sprinkled gently in the middle of a granite dish, adorned with sculptures of strange and wonderful shapes that were so alien Rose couldn't have even described them. The yapping of dogs, birds and children filled the peaceful air and on a warm, summery day the whole park was filled with people. After a hectic day of running around getting caught by palace guards and saving princesses from unruly rogues, it was nice to just take the time and relax.

The planet they were on – the name of which Rose couldn't quite remember; it had a lot of consonants and apostrophes, to say they least – was one of her favourites by far. It wasn't just for the warmth and the atmosphere. The local attire was just beautiful: light and flowing dress-like togas, finely decorated with opalescent metal disks that jingled and glinted in the sunlight. The Doctor, of course, still ran around in that trench coat of his. Many times that day Rose had had to watch the tails of it fly off into the distance as yet another grand idea ran away with him.

Spending time in the prisons had been less fun, but at least they had been reunited, and able to work on a solid plan together. Even if she had had to put up with the green slime oozing down the dank stone walls. She made a note to have a very hot shower once they (finally) got back to the TARDIS. And now here they were, basking in the success of an eventful day before they were to head off into another grand adventure. It was the best kind of life.

"Do you know," the Doctor mused, interrupting her thoughts as he squeezed her hand, "you've been travelling with me for a year today."

Rose turned to him curiously, shielding the sun from her face with her free hand. "Yeah? Thought it was longer than that."

"Well, it is, technically. But I mean… " He drew to a stop and met her eye. "It's been a year since we met. _Me_ me – this-face me. A year. Today. Well, sort of. This kind of life doesn't really allow for 'years', or days, that's very much an Earth measurement. But what I mean to say is the time we've spent together – about eight thousand, seven hundred and sixty hours – is the equivalent of how _you_ would measure a year, roughly (there's five hours here or there, it depends on leap years and the Julian calendar and the decimal point) and… " He stopped when he noticed Rose's smirk at the corner of her mouth, and lifted a hand to rub self-consciously at the back of his neck. "I just thought you would want to know," he ended, far too casually.

Rose couldn't hold in her giggle any longer. Perching on the side of the fountain they'd reached, she let her hand rest in the cool water as she chuckled to herself.

"You're so weird," she commented in idle play when he seemed to be waiting for her to say something.

The Doctor looked vaguely affronted. "Weird? Not – not sweet, or charming? Not even adorable?" He stared at her imploringly. "Just weird?"

"Yup."

"Oh."

She moved her fingers in the water, enjoying the swirl of it in her hand. Then she glanced up at the Doctor through her lashes, letting a teasing smile grace her lips. "It's really been a year?" she conceded softly.

He nodded resolutely. "To the hour, almost, since I took your hand in that console room, trying to get you to recognise me. Remember that?"

Rose felt a tingle at the base of her spine. How could she forget?

"Remember a lot more before that," she murmured, staring down into the crystal water again, where curious fish (at least, she assumed they were fish; they looked a bit… round) had come to investigate her fingers. There was, quite literally, a whole lifetime of time before her current Doctor, and even when their life was at its most hectic, she never liked to let herself forget it. It was more meaningful due to its fleeting moments, and the fact that she would never get to see that morose yet loveable face of his ever again.

Still. His new face had seen her through some pretty spectacular times. She turned to him, only to find that he had sat himself down beside her and was watching the water feature intently. He looked wistful, his expression a little blank, like he, too, was remembering days long gone.

"Doctor?"

Pulling his gaze from the tinkling water, his eyes met hers with a smile. He opened his mouth to speak, but just as he took in a breath he lifted his eyes just over her shoulder and he frowned.

"Stay here," he said suddenly, getting to his feet. "Don't – don't do that wandering off thing you do. I'll be back in a moment."

"Doctor, where are you going?" she questioned as he started walking off in the opposite direction.

"Nowhere. I'm going nowhere. Just stay there."

Curious, Rose watched him as he approached a figure standing in the shade of the trees lining the path. The park was huge, massive in fact, and the perimeter was surrounded by tall trees, bending over the winding path like half a canopy. They had been a welcome relief from the insistent glow of the sun, but as Rose glanced over to where the Doctor was standing she felt a strange chill come over her, even in the warmth of the day.

The figure was dressed in black, and wore a hooded cape that covered his (or her) entire face. The Doctor and he (or she) spoke in what appeared to be low tones for a couple of moments before, with a somewhat more sombre gait, the Doctor wandered back to Rose's side. And, although he addressed her when he spoke, his brows were knitted together as he scanned their surroundings in the park.

"I have to … go somewhere," he said cryptically.

Rose immediately got to her feet. A glance to the shadows told her they were both being watched by the figure, and if there was something going on, she was going to be a part of it. "Sounds ominous," she commented, idly brushing invisible dirt from her robes. "I was kind of looking forward to getting back to the TARDIS, but I s'pose needs must."

The Doctor, however, shook his head. "You can't come. There are things I have to discuss. Alone. I won't be gone long, probably not even ten minutes, but – "

"Doctor, if you think for a second I'm letting you just swan off like you used to way back when, then you've – "

"Rose. Please." When he looked at her, his gaze was sharp – so sharp, it could have cut right through her if she'd let it. "I'm not trying to leave you out of things."

"I don't need you protecting me, you know," she huffed. "I can take perfectly good care of myself."

At that, a somewhat wry smile appeared on his thinning lips. "Oh, I know. It's not for your protection, either." He leaned in a little to her, dropping his mouth to her ear. "It seems my presence is required for some sort of delicate matter. I don't know, I'm not sure what to make of it just yet. Trust me?"

_Trust me_. The most dangerous words Rose had ever heard. They were the words that had got her into all that trouble, years back, with Jimmy Stone. They were the words that had resorted in she and a teenage Mickey nearly plummeting to their deaths on the side of a cliff in Wales. They were the words of a last resort, and the last ever words that should be used as a command. And they were certainly not to be trusted.

On the other hand, it was the Doctor, and in every way that mattered she trusted him with her life.

"Oh, fine," she gave in after a pregnant pause. "Just don't leave me here, yeah? Mum'd kill you."

"I have absolutely no intention of leaving you here," he returned through a grin as he rummaged in his pockets, "but just in case you need extra security, I'll leave you with this."

He pulled out the sonic screwdriver, then pressed it firmly into the palm of her hand.

Rose snorted. "Oh, yeah. 'Cause that's a guarantee you're coming back."

The Doctor waved away her comment with his hand. "Nonsense! Sit yourself down there, enjoy the weather and the park, and I'll be back before you know it. Honestly."

Her smile didn't last as she asked, "Where are you even going?"

"I'm not sure. But don't worry. Everything will be fine. Promise!"

"Better be. I don't want to have to come rescuing you from some alien prison. Again." She grinned. "Had enough of that for one day."

He left her with a smile and a wave and the promise that she would still be there when he returned. He couldn't, after all, be doing with the loss of his sonic screwdriver. She looked down to the weird contraption in her hands, so much a mystery to her, even after the year-and-more she had been travelling with him. It was all protruding metal and odd buttons and switches and really, she didn't have the first clue how to use the thing. The few times the Doctor had chucked it to her in moments of panic, all she'd had to do was press a button on the side and magically unlocked or fixed whatever it was that needed unlocking or fixing.

She much preferred thinking about the sonic device in terms of magic than of science; same with the Doctor, really. Although she knew (because he had tried to explain it to her, many times) that everything about his power and his wisdom and his 'magic' came from science, it was just – better – to think of him as magical. To someone who didn't differentiate from science and magic, they were much the same anyway. Maybe that's why she had never done particularly well at science in school, even before she had dropped out.

When Rose looked up again, she was not entirely surprised to find that the Doctor and his mysterious cohort had vanished. She puffed out a sigh, kicking out her legs as she leant backwards towards the fountain behind her. Was she really supposed to just wait there until he came back, like some kind of … obedient dog? Then again, she only had to remember the look in his eye to realise that this was no ordinary behaviour for the Doctor. There was something that had really troubled him, and it was quite troubling Rose now, too.

"'Scuse me."

Rose turned around, surprise by the somewhat rough, childish voice that had addressed her. She found herself looking at a small boy, not much older than nine or ten, with a head of ruddy red hair and a smudge of dirt on his cheek.

"Yeah?" she asked, lowering the screwdriver to her lap.

"What's that?"

He was pointing at the sonic screwdriver.

"This? Just a – just a … thing. I don't really know."

"Oh." He looked perplexed. "Can I have it?"

"I don't think so," Rose said through a laugh. She refrained from calling him a cheeky git, even in affection. "It's my friend's, I don't think he'd like that."

"So? I lend my friends' stuff all the time."

"Don't they get angry with you?"

The boy shrugged. "Yeah. But then we just play and they don't mind any more."

Rose gave a laugh through her nose. How easy it was to be a child, even on a different planet. Maybe things weren't so different outside of Earth than she'd once thought.

"I have to go," said the boy, but before he left he extended a hand, as was custom upon departure. "I'm Henry."

"Hello, Henry. I'm Rose. It was nice to meet you."

He scampered off like a puppy, over the brow of the hill in the park and, Rose supposed, back to his family. She smiled gently, enjoying the soft breeze that suddenly whipped up around her. It was only a few minutes later when she heard the crunch of footsteps again and, getting to her feet, she was pleased to see the Doctor round the corner of the fountain. He offered her a beaming smile and swept her up in his arms as he reached her.

"God," spluttered a muffled Rose as she was crushed into his chest. "You alright?"

"I'm fine," he replied, a little breathlessly, before he released her. If she didn't know any better, she would have sworn his eyes were a little red. "Just fine. Perfect, really. Much, much better for being here again."

Rose gave him a curious look. "Where did you go? You were quick, did you sort out whatever it was you needed to do?"

For a second he looked about as confused as she felt; but he covered it quickly, with a wave of his hand and a tug on his ear. "Oh yes, yes. All fine. You know. Politics and that. Listen, I wanted to ask you something… " His gaze dipped to where she was still holding the sonic screwdriver. "Aha! You still have it! Good. Everything should be fine now."

"What else would I have done with it?" Rose joked, handing it back to him. "Dunno why you gave it to me in the first place, if I'm honest. It's not like I can use it, or anything."

He didn't seem to be paying attention to her. He was examining the screwdriver as though it held the answers to all his questions, as though he'd been desperate without it in the brief time he had been gone. Something was odd. Maybe the figure had done something suspicious to the Doctor – maybe this wasn't even the Doctor at all, maybe he was some kind of weird shapeshifter just out for a bit of time lord technology. Okay, it sounded ridiculous, but if there was one thing Rose knew in amongst all the confusion of time and space, it was the Doctor – and he was simply not acting himself.

"What was the name of this planet again?" she asked. It would be the perfect test; only the Doctor would have been, well, himself enough to learn how to pronounce it.

He gave the answer without looking up. "Xkth''ygius'lhjtioshg'."

She blinked. "Right. Yeah. Okay."

All of a sudden, the screwdriver apparently forgotten, the Doctor was in front of Rose in the merest of seconds. He cupped her cheek in one of his rough hands and stared into her eyes as though he wanted to just swallow her up. She gulped.

"Doctor?" she breathed weakly.

"There's something I don't tell you nearly often enough, Rose," he murmured, his voice only just above a whisper. His eyes searched hers persistently. "I mean, I can't, I _don't_ … But you … you know how very – how very _special_ you are to me. Don't you?"

His hand began to tremble and Rose lifted her fingers to his cheek. The man looked suddenly broken, like his shoulders had suddenly given way under the weight of the universe.

"What's going on? Doctor, you're scaring me."

"I'm sorry, Rose. I don't mean to scare you, I don't, it's just… " He didn't finish his sentence. Instead he pulled her close to him and bruised her forehead with a crushing kiss. He lingered there for a second, his lips against her skin, and as the moments pushed on it seemed as though he mumbled something. But the wind caught up his words in her arms and carried them away, taking his secret to the very brink of the planet, where it would burn in the atmosphere, forgotten.

Then he was away again, pocketing the screwdriver as though nothing had happened. It was only in his eyes, in his dark expression as it remained on her, that Rose could see something was still very wrong.

"I've just remembered something I've forgotten," the Doctor stated flatly, turning away. It suddenly struck Rose just how very old he looked, how very tired and worn around the edges he seemed to have become. "I need to … I'll just be two minutes."

"Oh, no you don't." Her hands were around his arm in a moment, keeping him rooted to the spot. "You're not disappearing off again, not when it makes you like this."

"Disappearing off is not what made me like this," he shot back. Then, softer, he covered her hand with his. "I don't often need things from you, Rose, but right now I really need you just let me go. I'll explain everything, I promise, you _will_ understand one day. But I can't tell you now. And you can't ask … me … either."

Rose's confusion was so clear in her voice that she could hear it wringing through her head as she asked, "What?"

The Doctor sighed, raising his eyes to the heavens.

"I really don't have the time to – just, you can't talk about this, you can't ask him – me – about this. He won't know."

Although her hands released him, her suspicions had him right in her grasp. "Who are you?" she asked calculatingly, her earlier fears returning to her; only this time, they didn't seem so ridiculous.

He looked squarely at her. "I'm the Doctor. Just not … _this_ one." He jarred towards the ground, as though that explained everything.

Except that in a weird kind of way, it did, because Rose felt understanding slotting into place like bricks in a wall. "You're f-from another time?" she guessed, uncertainly.

The Doctor pinched his eyes with his hand. "I've already said too much. I have to go, there isn't time, I just came for this." He held up the sonic screwdriver rather reluctantly.

"But you can't just take that. Isn't that breaking some complicated time-rules or something? Crossing your own path, or … whatever?"

"Yes."

He didn't offer any explanation other than that, and it left Rose feeling somewhat at a loss. "But what am I supposed to tell him? You know, when he really comes back."

"The truth."

As he turned to go, so quiet, Rose felt a sudden, desperate pang. She didn't like seeing the Doctor, whichever kind of Doctor it was, under so much duress; and she didn't like the feeling that she was being given an awful lot of responsibility. However, he was gone within mere seconds, disappeared as though he had vanished into thin air.

Feeling unsettled, she perched by the fountain again and stared up into the sky. The sun had hidden itself behind bruised clouds, its rays only occasionally breaking through to the land beneath. Rose felt a shiver on her skin. Whatever was going on, in the grander scheme of things, she really hoped the universe – and the Doctor – knew what it was doing.

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><p><strong>«¤»<strong>

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><p>He had first noticed the shadow on Enoulia. It had since followed them to explosion at Ryisbah quarry, the Great Revolution of Trandosha and the festival of lights on Katishwul. When he had noticed it skulking about in the shade of the trees at Xkth''ygius'lhjtioshg' (a mouthful of a name, even for him), the Doctor decided that enough was enough. It shouldn't be right that he could be followed from place to place, time to time, like he was leaving a trail of breadcrumbs all over the universe.<p>

He didn't want to worry Rose, of course. He just intended to have a quiet word with whoever (or whatever) was following him and tell them in the nicest manner possible to … leave them alone. He was not prepared for the conversation and scenes which shortly followed.

He approached casually, his hands behind his back, his gait slow and peaceful, and began the conversation with a simple, "All right. You have my attention. What do you want?"

The figure turned to him slowly. "Your aid," it returned, equally as simply.

The Doctor made sure to keep his voice low. "Well, tell me what the problem is and I'll see what I can do. Just do me a favour and stop with all this 'lurking in the shadows' business; it's quite off-putting."

The voice was distant, airy, as though it hadn't quite taken form in the real world. It was like hearing a whisper through a dream – a nightmare. "We cannot talk here," the shadow stated, as though it were a matter of fact. "It is busy. There is too much … light."

"Oh, I know this one. This is the part where you lure me into some kind of trap in an attempt to separate my companion and I, whilst in the meantime stealing my time-and-spaceship. Can we just skip the middle and jump to the 'happily ever after' at the end?"

The figure turned in a single movement that was at once both unsettling and terrifying. "I do not understand. I am from the Brotherhood of Ra, and I seek your aid and guidance as per Section 72, B of the Shadow Proclamation. If you remember, Doctor, you and we were there when it was drafted."

The Doctor stiffened at the drop of so many names he hoped never to hear again. He took at the silhouette with a renewed interest as he realised, foolishly, that he should have recognised him from before. But it had been a long, long time since he had been in the chambers of the Brotherhood, much less needed be reminded about the Shadow Proclamation.

"The Brotherhood of Ra," he sounded out, like his tongue was exploring a new and exciting flavour. "It's been a long time. Give me a moment."

Without so much as another word, he wandered back to Rose. She wasn't going to make this easy – she was Rose, of course she wasn't. And it wasn't as if he could just explain to her the terribly boring intricacies of his past, of duty, of promises long made and forgotten. So he battled with her for a short while, made some brand new promises of returning fairly swiftly, and left her with little more than a few words and his screwdriver.

He hoped he wouldn't actually need it, wherever he ended up, but even if he did he would probably find a way out of trouble sooner or later. He also hoped Rose's joke about ending up in prison remained as a humorous comment rather than fact.

The Brotherhood were a strange lot. The Doctor found himself wondering just how long they would have pursued him, hiding in the shadows and making no move at all. If he had never approached, if he had just kept running, he had no doubt that he would have found himself followed for a very, very long time. Such were the ethics of the organisation: let the target come to you. It keeps you in power.

What they could possibly want from him, he had little to no idea. The Brotherhood had been formed in a history when there were time lords a-plenty, when calls for help would have been answered in abundance (well – perhaps not in abundance, but at least they would have had more options than a meagre 'one'). They were a league of assassins, the crème de la crème when it came to the kinds of jobs the highest-order didn't want dirtying their hands, or tarnishing their name. They tended not to leave a mark, keeping to the shadows and completing their tasks in the most mysterious of ways. Usually, a visitation from the Brotherhood was not easily traceable, and left no one alive. That was why they were so popular – they could make the worst of jobs look like an accident, and the best of jobs like nothing had even happened. Quite mysterious.

Their presence in the Doctor's life vaguely made him wonder if he had been marked for death. He shook the notion off with the somewhat discomforting realisation that, were that the case, he would probably already be dead.

He and the shadow walked together under the cover of the trees – a much less pleasant walk than the one he had just taken with Rose. The park was teeming with life of all sorts, and he suspected they would not be able to talk here at all.

"Doctor, with your permission, I must take you to our Sanctuary. It is only there that I can properly explain our predicament."

The Doctor very much doubted that, but he didn't argue; organisations like the Brotherhood tended to be very set in their ways, honouring tradition and, among that, the strangest of rules.

"Very well," he agreed. "Do what you must."

What happened next was slightly unnerving and, though he would never admit it, left him the smallest bit shaken. The shadow approached him directly and seemed to grow to three times its size, engulfing everything around it as though a soulless leak had opened up in the planet. It swallowed him up, from head to toe, briefly plunging him into the coldest, emptiest form of darkness he could ever remember experiencing. A few moments later, when he was released, he found himself standing in the centre of an explosion of crystalline, a radiance of teal, cerulean and cobalt pulsing from the cavernous room. Ahead and behind him in the cave, if that was what it was, led into darkness; but it was as though the walls, ceiling and floor could sense his life-force, and were lit by it. Ahead, he could make out what seemed to be a plinth, carved perfectly into the crystal floor.

As the Doctor cast his gaze over the vast room, he felt a tingle run from the base of his neck to the tips of his toes; he wished Rose were with him.

The shadow fell back against the backdrop of darkness, so much so that it was difficult to tell where it ended and the shade began. As the Doctor looked, he noticed that it wasn't just any kind of darkness he was staring into. It was like a wall, a solid mass of moving, pulsing energy. Experimentally, he took a step towards it, and was glad to see it retreat as the crystal light moved with him.

"So, you need my help," he addressed, his voice echoing around the resonant cavern. "What with, exactly?"

"We have lost one of our own. We became … separated some time ago, and we cannot access his energy."

"I fail to see how that's any problem of mine," the Doctor returned coolly. "I lose things and people all the time. Tragedies, yes, but life goes – "

"You are a time lord!" the shadow roared as it flashed angrily. "You alone are responsible for the balance of the universe, and you must help us. The Brotherhood does not die, as it does not live. We share everything, we _are_ everything. To have a separation is … unfortunate. And it is dangerous."

The Doctor's lips thinned. He didn't need to be reminded that, last of his kind as he was, it was his sole responsibility to go around picking up the shrapnel the universe left behind in its mistakes.

He let out a sigh. "Dangerous how?"

"It will be uncertain and scared. It will try anything to get back to the Brotherhood – there will be many deaths as it tries to achieve this. Many unnecessary deaths. A soldier acting alone, without command, is careless and will become noticed. Death is not something to dish out in the blink of an eye."

"Well, what do you want me to do?" He stepped forward again, and this time, the shadow did not retreat. "What can I do that you can't?"

"We do not know where he is," came the stalwart reply.

"Oh, and I do? The universe is a big place, I can't just trawl through every possibility."

"We can sense him. We can sense his fear and his desperation. But we cannot locate him, his own fear is stopping the link. We cannot bring him home, and we cannot go to him without a stronger tie. The only one capable of resisting the pull of the Brotherhood is a Brother himself."

The Doctor wished he had something solid and real to be talking with – something with a face that he could engage with, reason with. Dealing with shadows and whispers never tended to be very successful.

"All right, so you can 'sense' him. That's a start, I suppose. You want me to just go pick him up? I doubt he's going to trust me willingly."

At that, a form stepped forward, a thin, gruesome hand outstretched. In the palm it clasped a trinket, it's branch-like fingers splayed protectively around it. It was a sphere, of chrome and many odd indentations and carvings on the side. The Doctor took it curiously, turning it over in his hands as he examined it under the scrutiny of his spectacles. It was dense, heavy, as though there were much more to it than met his eye.

"What is it?" he asked at last, looking up. His shadow-friend stood there, hooded and elusive still.

"Proof that you have come on our word. He will not come easily; his fear will keep him from returning. That is a weapon. It is a last resort, should you meet with hostility."

The Doctor immediately shook his head. "No. Absolutely not. No weapons. You want my help, that's fine, I'm bound to give it to you – but we do things my way and I will not use weapons, of any kind.

The Brotherhood seemed unaffected. "That is for your own discretion. It will still allow you the leverage you need, whether you activate it or not."

After a pregnant pause, in which he tried to stare down a shadow, the Doctor eventually pocketed the device silently. "Do you have a planet name, somewhere I can start?" he asked wearily. He wasn't much looking forward to the task ahead. If he had been anyone else, without his rank or title, he would have told them exactly where to go. But then, if he had been anyone else, he probably wouldn't have been approached in the first place.

The reply that came back was simple, one word. "Earth."

The Doctor looked up, anger in his eyes. "Earth? But Earth isn't a higher-ranking planet, you should have no business anywhere near there." His hearts began to beat a little faster in his chest as he clenched and unclenched his fists. He didn't know much about the Brotherhood, but the little he did told him that it would be disastrous to have one of them lost and scared running around there.

"We cannot give you the details of the circumstances; they are not ours to give. But that is where our Brother rests, elusive to our calls. Please – return him."

"I will hold you responsible, for him and his actions," the Doctor warned severely. "And I'll do this for you, on the condition that you never accept a contract concerning Earth again. Earth's in its infancy, it shouldn't have enemies, and you," he pointed to the shadows, "should know better."

After a long moment, in which he wondered whether he would have to repeat himself, the Brotherhood agreed. And then, just as it had begun, he found himself swallowed up by darkness once again. Within seconds he was standing back in the park, the dim sunlight above in the clouds painful to his eyes. He lifted a hand, shielding the rays, and found that he was alone. The orb in his pocket was the only proof that anything had even happened to him.

"Typical," he complained. "It would be me who has to run around after everyone else."

He turned on the spot towards the fountain, expecting to see a patient Rose smiling and waving and ready to fill him with elation, as her smile usually did. But, much to his dismay (if not to his surprise) he was met with nothing but the cold stone of the granite. Of course. Of _course_ she wouldn't be there, right where he'd told her to stay, of course she had gone and disappeared off somewhere. It was Rose.

With a sigh of one who was well practised at chasing after everything and everyone else, the Doctor trotted up the brow of the hill and tried not to think too much about the worrying trouble Rose might have got herself into. He just hoped, in the sinking of his hearts, that she was all right.


	3. The Silent Consort

Thank you so much for the reviews everyone, they really make me smile :) And thanks for the alerts, too! I probably won't update again before Sunday, so happy Easter to those of you who celebrate it.

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><p><strong>Animus Lost<strong>_  
><em>

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><p><span>- Chapter Two -<span>  
><em>The Silent Consort<em>

**«¤»**

The Doctor sat in the library, thinking. His face was drawn into a serious expression as he tossed the orb the Brotherhood had given him from one hand to the other, watching it glint in the light from the fireplace as it sailed through the air. Its grooves ran the circumference like some kind of maze and, if he didn't know any better, he'd think it was some kind of puzzle artefact. Catching it in one hand, he leant forward over the desk, twisting the strange object between his hands, moulding the grooves into different slots. Then, remembering that it was, supposedly, a weapon, and not a toy, he placed it delicately down on the desk in amongst the haphazard papers he kept there. Probably best not play with something that had the potential to be dangerous.

He had found Rose just over the brow of the hill on Xkth''ygius'lhjtioshg', in no trouble whatsoever, sprawled out on a picnic blanket and talking rather animatedly to a very red-headed boy. As soon as he'd approached, however, he could tell something was wrong. She seemed agitated, and wanted too get away from the place as quickly as they could. She left the boy with a simple farewell and all the way back to the TARDIS, as the Doctor was telling her (in the briefest way possible) what he had been through, he got the impression she wasn't quite listening, like her mind was completely occupied somewhere else.

Then, she had told him what had happened to her, while he had been away. About the future him, about the screwdriver, about how scared she had felt for him.

He shook his head and let out a sigh, running his fingers and thumb from his temples to the bridge of his nose. He never liked knowing about actions he was going to commit in the future. It always left him panicking, wondering when was the right time to cross his own path, when he would need act in order not implode the universe, how he would know when that time came about … knowing one's actions before they happened was always rather stressful, and it was one of the reasons he never like to say too much on the few occasions it had to be done. Still, Rose couldn't have known not to mention anything to him – how else was she going to explain the disappearance of his sonic screwdriver? If she'd lied about it he probably would have been able to tell, and that would have made him all the more suspicious.

That was another questionable side-effect to it all. He could easily replace the sonic screwdriver had it gone missing, so … why would he even need to cross his own path to replace or retrieve it? He could just as easily concoct another one, he had been through a number of different screwdrivers in his lifetime as it was. It hardly seemed worth threatening his own timeline for. What had he – or would he – be thinking?

His attention was drawn back to the metal ball sitting patiently on his desk. He frowned at it. The Brotherhood needed him and he knew he had a responsibility to answer, but his instincts were telling him to stay very far away. The task was fairly mammoth, if he thought about it. Go to Earth, find mysterious assassin, somehow convince him that he (the Doctor) wasn't an enemy, but a friend trying to help him get home. Where would he start looking? _When_ would he start looking?

He leant forward, face in his palms. Couldn't he just take Rose to the lovely coast of Bonico, where they could slurp drinks and stare at the beautiful sunsets? Wouldn't it just be easier to continue leaving their trail among the stars, as though nothing had happened, as though nothing had gone awry? He felt the sinking sensation of guilt trickling through him, like a poison, as he thought such things. Grimacing into the empty library, he reminded himself that running away barely ever solved his problems. It was fun, though, and it wasn't like he had a set time in which to complete his mission for the Brotherhood. In fact maybe he could just wait until fate intervened and made it _obvious_ where to find the Brother … if he was as dangerous a lone soldier as the Brotherhood suggested, it shouldn't take too long for his discrepancies on Earth to start showing up.

The Doctor sat up, feeling a little brighter. There was no reason, none whatsoever, why he couldn't just continue his life as normal. They'd end up on Earth again fairly soon, he was sure of that, and then, maybe, he would start digging around. Until then, it was back to the same old life amongst the stars.

**«¤»**

Rose stepped out of the shower, enveloped in steam, and wrapped a soft, pink towel around her exposed body. She adored the shower in her bathroom. It was always the perfect temperature, never scalding or ice-like, and the power of the jets on her skin was like a comforting, warm massage. A few times – very few times – she had imagined it was not water, but the Doctor's hands, kneading into her flesh. But the thoughts never lasted long; as soon as the idea even crossed her mind she would stamp down on them as guilt rose through her like a threatening bile. Regardless of her feelings for the Doctor (of which she had many, some of them confusing, some of them painfully simple), she never felt comfortable thinking about him in that way. It was like snooping in on someone without their permission. It wasn't as if he was ever going to feel the same way, was it?

Besides, she was never one hundred percent sure the TARDIS couldn't read her mind. It got inside her head and made her understand alien languages, so why would her inner-most thoughts be any different? She cringed at the idea of anyone knowing some of the things that had crossed her mind, even in fleeting, untamed moments.

Staring down at her toes, she wiggled them against fluffy pink mat on the floor. It was so good to get out strange clothes, beautiful as they had been. She was very much looking forward to just slipping on a pair of jeans and a hoodie, wandering the TARDIS like –

Her thought was interrupted by a very strange sound: the ringing of her mobile phone. The last time it had rung had been … well, she wasn't entirely sure, but a long time, when she and the Doctor had ended up zooming back to Earth to investigate a mystery Mickey had cooked up. But Mickey was gone now. The thought hurt more than she expected it to.

Crossing the threshold between her bathroom and her bedroom, Rose found her mobile buzzing loudly on the dresser to one side of her room. Worry flooded her heart as her mum's name flashed on the screen. Rose had given her the number for the use of dire emergencies only; using it too often, the Doctor said, could cause some fluctuations and blips in the timelines, as talking to someone who either wasn't in a specific time, or was in the wrong one, was technically impossible.

She answered the call fearfully.

"Mum?" she asked into the receiver, clutching the towel tightly around her as water began to trickle form her hairline down her neck. "What's wrong? What's happened?"

"There you are!" the shrill voice of Jackie reprimanded from Earth, 2007. It hurt Rose's head to think about it. "I've been ringing for ages! Where've you been?"

"Sorry. Me and the Doctor were … out." She cringed at her own use of the word – as though exploring planets was something they just did on a whim.

"Out? What's the bleeding point of having a phone in space, then?"

Rose didn't want to go in to explaining just why it wasn't the wisest of ideas to bring strange Earth technology from planet to planet. The Doctor's contraptions were fine, handy, tools of the trade that couldn't be traced anywhere any more, except back to him. Getting a call while in the middle of dealing with execution, however, was probably not going to go down so well.

"Mum, are you all right?" she asked instead, trying to get back to the topic at hand. "Is there alien activity going on? Do you need us?"

"No, sweetheart, everything's fine!" Jackie's smile was evident through her voice. "I'm ringing because Auntie Mabel – you remember Auntie Mabel, don't you? Lots of hair. Bit crazy if you ask me, I don't know _what_ she thinks she's doing with that self hair-styling kit. Anyway, Auntie Mabel is getting married, love!"

There was a pause as Jackie left this supposedly thrilling news sink in. After a moment, Rose said, "Um … that's nice, Mum, but – but why're you ringing me?"

"Got an invitation in the post this morning – that's how I know about it – to me and you, and a guest each. I'm thinking maybe Howard would like to come, he likes an excuse to dress up in a suit. You should see him when he's all – "

"Mum!" Rose interrupted, frustration getting the better of her. "It's nice to hear from you, but _why are you telling me this_?"

"All right, no need to get snappy." Rose rolled her eyes as her mother continued, "I rang Auntie Mabel as soon as I opened the invitation, and we had a nice big catch up. She asked all about you, o'course, and I told her everything. She's very interested to meet your Doctor."

Rose felt her cheeks pale. She pressed the phone harder to her ear. "You told her everything?"

"Well, not everything. That you're travelling, with a friend who knows everything about everything. Anyway, she said you _have_ to come to wedding. She hasn't seen you since you was a toddler!"

"Mum … you didn't … "

"Didn't what, love?"

"Didn't tell her that I'd actually go, did you?"

"Well of course I did!"

Rose buried her face in her hands. "Mum, I'm not even on _Earth_, I don't go to – to weddings, or anything, I've got a life here and – "

"Now you listen to me, my girl." Jackie's voice was as stern as Rose had ever heard it and, despite herself, she found herself quieting. "I give you a lot of freedom with the Doctor, mostly because I know I can't stop you, but just because you're out there with them weird aliens doesn't mean you don't have responsibilities back home! Everyone misses you sweetheart, you haven't really seen anyone since you've disappeared off. Now, I don't ask for much, and it'll only be an afternoon. Then you can waltz off with your heirs and graces back to that life. But you are coming home and saying hello to the people who've loved and raised you for nineteen years, or so help me God you aren't my daughter any more."

There was an acidic pause as Jackie finished her persuasive rant, and Rose felt herself in a terrible conflict. The last – the absolute _last_ – thing she wanted to do was spend an afternoon being polite and refined and lovely to people she hadn't seen in years. She didn't really like weddings anyway, they were boring and made people cry, and then there were the hours of meeting strangers and making small talk afterwards. But there was something truly threatening in Jackie's voice, and it _was_ just one afternoon. She'd spent hours, nights even, shackled up in prisons with nothing but slime for company. Maybe an afternoon with the family wouldn't be so bad.

"All right," she sighed heavily, regretting it the moment she said it. "All right. I'll come. When is it?"

She jotted down the dates Jackie gave her, as well as the venue and a good time to be there by. Jackie suggested maybe even getting there a day or two early, just to "make sure the Doctor didn't miss it". Rose felt her stomach clench. She rang off with a few unceremonious words, then pressed the phone to her lips as she paced the bedroom. Maybe they could just not go, she thought to herself. They were in a time and space machine, after all, they could go whenever they liked. Maybe never!

But then, the dates Jackie had given weren't that far after their last visit, and the Doctor liked to keep their visits in chronological order in case something ever went terribly wrong while they were away and they unravelled a very neat little timeline. Oh, time travelling was such a headache sometimes.

Throwing her phone to her bed, Rose paced to her wardrobe and changed quickly. It was probably better she at least mention all this to the Doctor. After all, she thought with a cringe, she had to convince him to go.

**«¤»**

"No. No. Absolutely not. Not on your Nelly."

"Please?"

"No!"

She'd found him in the library, thoughtful but happy, and he'd been just about to suggest somewhere lovely to go when she had started talking about Jackie and weddings and family ties and responsibilities and – and basically, all the things he hated most in the whole wide world.

"It'll only be for a few hours," she wheedled persistently, in a tone she had learned often got the better of him. The Doctor looked at her, at her soft brown eyes and pleading smile, but he would not be drawn in by it all. Not this time.

"I don't care if it's for a millisecond," he huffed, uncrossing his arms. "I don't care if it's the last wedding on Earth and you'd never get to go home again. I'm not going."

Rose fiddled with the hem of her t-shirt distractedly as she pouted. "It's not like I want to go, either."

"Then don't," he suggested curtly as he paced past her, towards a bookshelf full of books he'd never read. "I'm sure Jackie would forgive you."

"I'm not sure she would, y'know. You didn't hear her. And she _definitely_ wouldn't forgive you."

The Doctor turned, thought about it for a moment, then replied with a cool, "Do you know, I think I can just about live with that."

She grabbed his arm as he passed her again, stilling him by her side. "Doctor, please. For me?"

He closed his eyes and let out a sigh. "I'll take you back if you want to go. But that's it."

"You can't make me go through all that by myself!"

"Rose, they're your family. If you don't want to do this, what on Earth makes you think I'm going to want to?"

When he looked at her next he noticed a very dangerous smile crossing her lips. She was about to try something … crafty. And though he very much liked Rose when she was being crafty – it had got them out of a number of scrapes – he felt a little unnerved when that gaze was pinned on him. It was a bit like being cornered by a somewhat wily predator. He swallowed as he smile grew and her big, brown eyes watched him from hooded lashes.

"It's just a big party," she said serenely, her hand smoothing up the creases of his shirt to his shoulder. "People, music, nibbles." Her eyes flicked to his. _"Dancing."_

"Rose… " He whined. "Don't make me do this. If you had any decency in you, you wouldn't make me – "

"Please?"

The word was soft, reaching him on a gentle breath. He wouldn't even have been able to hear it had he not been so close to her. He felt his resolve slipping like fingers from a cliffside, felt his stubbornness release him as though from the iron-clad grip of an enemy. He groaned audibly, bowing his head forward.

"All right."

With a satisfied smile and a very large 'thank you', Rose disappeared off down the corridors in preparation for their landing. The Doctor miserably watched her go, and wondered with some fear if there was anything Rose could ask of him that he wouldn't do. Shaking the thoughts away (mostly because he didn't much care for the answers), he strolled towards the console room in order to prepare himself.

**«¤»**

It was a spring wedding and, to the Doctor's mild surprise, not held in a church. It was, in fact, held under a gazebo on the lawn of a massive estate, somewhere in the north of Kent. He stepped out of the TARDIS and was immediately met with the scent of a crisp spring afternoon, with the buzzing of bees as they investigated a nearby rhododendron bush. He'd hidden the TARDIS away on a rather private area of the estate – the gardens – between a privet hedge and the more dense foliage and flowers. Although the stark blue of the box was hardly camouflaged against the backdrop of green, he doubted anyone would come out this far.

He walked a few paces, squinting up into the sky, before he heard the door close behind him. Turning to his companion, he felt his breath catch on the smallest amount of surprise.

" …Rose, you look – "

"Yeah, I know, you don't have to say it." She silenced him with a raised hand before she fiddled with the folds of her gown, frowning. "Stupid thing. I kept trying to pick something else, but every rack I went to this one was always the one I grabbed. Reckon the TARDIS is having a laugh."

The Doctor would have said something to assure Rose of the contrary, but currently his mouth did not appear to be connected to his brain. In fact he was fairly sure his mouth had fallen open of its own accord and wasn't going to listen to a single command his brain sent it. Because she looked _ravishing_. Perhaps it was the way the sunlight picked up the pink-beige hue of the dress, perhaps it was the way it hugged her curves and fell from her waist like water, perhaps it was the way her hair fell on her half-bare shoulders, but the Doctor found himself at a loss for words.

Fashion wasn't something he especially knew much about, but it was the subtleness about it that he liked the most; how the gown seemed tailored to be both exquisite and simple in the same thread. The result, especially on Rose, was something he could not ever have imagined.

Eventually, he found his voice again, and composed himself through a quiet cough. "Actually, I was going to say that you look … beautiful."

Rose, who had moved to adjust the waistband, looked up in surprise. "Oh." When he didn't say anything else, she added a pleased, "You think?"

"For a human," he smirked, his temperament somewhat soothed.

With a grin, she bounded over to him, taking his proffered arm. "Gotta say," she mumbled as they rounded the corner from the gardens, "you don't look so bad yourself. What is it with you and a tux?"

The Doctor preened proudly, straightening his bow-tie with his free hand. "Well, I do like to make a good impression."

"Yeah, right," Rose snorted derisively.

"I do!"

"First time you met me, you blew up my job!"

"Yes, well." The Doctor shrugged uncomfortably. "Needs must. Besides, I saved you first. _That_ was a good first impression – one of my best, I think."

Laughing, Rose tucked herself into his arm as they walked up the expanse of lawn towards a grand building. The Doctor couldn't contain an impressed whistle of awe as his eyes scaled the edifice that met them as they approached. It was several storeys high, several floors wide and looked like it could house a hundred people, easily. The rows of windows looked out against the backdrop of browning stone like a hundred curious eyes, its door a gaping mouth in the rather oversized building.

"Blimey," he enthused, as they got closer to a large gazebo positioned some way away from the house; that, apparently, was where all the guests were gathering. "Did you say it was an aunt of yours, getting married?"

Rose nodded distantly, equally as distracted by the surroundings as he. She wouldn't have been surprised if a peacock suddenly turned up to peck at the hem of her dress.

"Musta come into some money. She's dad's side of the family, and they didn't keep in touch much after … well, you know. Didn't think much of mum, I don't think."

The Doctor frowned. "Why the wedding invite, then?"

"Who knows," answered Rose through a shrug.

Any more questions he might have had were swallowed up by the meeting and greeting of dozens of new faces. He and Rose found themselves moving from person to person, from stately man and wife to younger, more nervous-looking twenty-somethings. All of them had a lot to say, mostly about themselves, and of course how delighted they were for the happy couple on this beautiful and spectacular day. The Doctor couldn't remember being so polite and refined in all his life, with the how-do-you-dos and the lovely-weather-isn't-its. One thing that did stand out with everyone they met was that they all seemed of fairly similar connection with houses like Auntie Mabel's; whenever it was Rose's turn to talk about her inheritance, or title, or plans for the future she just stumbled over her words a bit and started talking about the weather. And whenever it was asked how exactly she knew the couple, her answer – that she was the bride's niece – brought with it some rather dubious looks from whoever they were talking to. One couple so much as even walked away.

The scene was lovely. Lights adorned the erection like ivy, crawling up the pillars and along the ceiling as though they had a life of their own. Though it was the middle of the day, the ceremony, reception and party would probably stretch on well into the night. There was a small pedestal off one side where a four-string quartet played a number of musical pieces, their aching music sailing on the empty breeze of the day. Guests were already filling up the numerous seats, where ahead, at a beautifully decorated arch, there stood the registrar. She was talking to anyone who approached about the preparation for the day, and explained to anyone who would listen that the couple were each getting ready in their own private wings of the stately home.

There was a large buffet table situated to the back of the gazebo, which not only held a large array of food, but six or seven ice sculptures. In the heat of the day they already had a bit of a sheen to them, and the Doctor found himself rather sardonically wishing for them to just disappear into the tablecloth. Whether that was because they were hideous, or because he was just that bored, he couldn't tell.

The other thing he became painfully aware of amongst the sea of strangers' faces was the absence of one Jackie Tyler.

He detached himself from Rose not long after they started being bombarded by inane conversation from other guests. Hiding out by the buffet seemed like a safe bet; the catering staff looked just as overwhelmed as he felt, and he felt much more at home with them. He was just chatting to a lovely young woman about what she wanted to do with her dogs over her planned holiday away when Rose approached.

"God," she huffed, taking a glass of champagne as it was offered to her. She downed half of it in one go.

The Doctor watched her carefully. "All right?" he asked, popping a miniature quiche into his mouth. He did rather love the miniatures.

Rose shook her head. "Dunno. So many _people_. I mean, I know it's a wedding and everything, but… " She turned, her gaze pointed towards the grand house just beyond. "I mean, Auntie Mabel must be marrying into one hell of a family. All these people with their fancy words and money and I haven't even got two A-levels to string together."

The Doctor offered her a sympathetic look. "Neither have I," he pointed out. Rose looked back to him with a gentle smile. "And look how brilliant I am."

"You were doing well up until that last bit."

"You're just as brilliant as I am, Rose," he admitted quietly, taking a sip of the champagne she had abandoned.

She laughed, the sound a delicate tinkle. "Can I get that in writing?"

They were interrupted by the rather obnoxious tone of Rose's mobile ringing. She instantly flushed, the embarrassment spreading from her cheeks to the top of her chest (at which point, the Doctor became quite distracted by the blade of grass at the end of his shoe). She shushed the contraption before lifting it to her ears.

"Hi, mum? Where are you?"

The Doctor didn't have to be on the end of the phone to hear Jackie's unrelenting yells coming from the other end. He listened, painfully, and watched as Rose's expression went from one of surprise, to one of embarrassment, to one of pure mortification. He only caught the odd phrase from her about where they were and how long they'd been there before she ever so silently hung up the phone.

Returning it to the small bag she had brought with her, she stared at the floor. "We have to leave."

The Doctor couldn't exactly pretend to be disappointed. "Trouble in paradise? Has she got some kind of emergency?"

"No, Doctor, it's… " Rose leaned towards him, lowering her voice. "This is not Auntie Mabel's wedding."

"Ah." He swallowed, feeling a bit sheepish. "That's quite a coincidence, although I suppose we really should have guessed that. What with … everything. Where are we?"

"How should I know? You're the one who brought us here, you said this was the place. Didn't you?"

"_Well_, as far as I know it's the place, yes, but you must remember I did once leave Sarah Jane in Aberdeen. That wasn't even the right country."

Rose, the epitome of her mother, rested a hand upon one of her hips and tapped her foot on the floor impatiently. She looked like she was waiting for something, but the Doctor hadn't the faintest clue what it was. Eventually, with an exasperated sigh, she said, "What you waiting for? It's not like we can stay."

"Why not?" She looked at him as though he'd just told her he liked dancing on his head in his sleep.

"What d'you mean _why not_?"

There was something quite amusing about a woman – or, well, anyone really – who was obviously quite angry but was trying to conceal it from the public eye. With Rose particularly, her cheeks flushed, her hands screwed into balls and her hair fell in her face as though it was trying to join in on her annoyance. She looked quite adorable, actually. The Doctor decided it was probably better not to tell Rose this, however – lovely as she looked, even when angry, he didn't want to make things worse.

Turning away, he picked up a different treat from the selection on the table and chomped on it for a moment, contemplating his answer. Despite the fact that it had, so far, turned out to be quite an unsuccessful outing, he was actually quite enjoying himself. The venue was pretty, the weather was lovely, and now he and Rose were in exactly the same boat once again: neither of them had any connection to the people around them and they could enjoy themselves laughing like they belonged. At least she needn't feel so bad about her lack of A-levels, he thought.

"We might as well stay, now that we're here," he reasoned, swallowing. "They're not going to know any different, and besides." He pulled a lopsided grin. "I always did love a party."

Rose looked like she was about to explode. Her mouth opened, but only air came out, at which point she clamped it shut again. As he went to take another swig of her champagne, she snatched it out of his hands. "I can't believe you sometimes," she hissed venomously. "First you don't wanna come and now you don't wanna leave. This is somebody's _wedding_. We can't just… "

When she seemed to be having trouble with her words, the Doctor prompted, "Can't just what?"

"Stay!"

Feeling that his teasing was perhaps going a little far, the Doctor eased off. Making sure there was no one around who would overhear them, he said, "Rose, we can't make it to your Aunt's wedding anyway. I'm in this timeline and part of events, it would be dangerous having two sets of us on Earth at the same time."

"That's utter bollocks," Rose argued, though he sensed she was losing momentum. "When we went back to see my dad there were two of us in the same place and it was fine."

The Doctor raised a candid eyebrow. "You do remember how that ended, don't you? Look, I'm not trying to be obtuse," he added, a little gentler. "I know being here makes you feel uncomfortable, but … it's a party! Enjoy yourself!"

Rose scoffed. Then she looked at him, at his suit and his tie, at his smile and at their surroundings, and she let out the heaviest of breaths. "My mum is gonna kill you," she said, offering the Doctor the last of her champagne. "And if all we get out of this is a stuffy wedding, I'm gonna kill you too."

The Doctor grinned at her over the rim of his glass. "It'll be fun," he said. "Promise."

The words had barely left his lips before a strangled, blood-curdling scream echoed all the way across the lawns, alerting everyone in sight to the woman – the bride, in fact – now sprinting, high heels and everything, from the house to the collection of guests. The Doctor turned to Rose, a wild look in his eyes.

"See? And you wanted to leave."

Before she could utter a word in response, he grabbed her hand and ran.


End file.
